


Just a Talk

by Lord_Overlord



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 18:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14171424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Overlord/pseuds/Lord_Overlord
Summary: Bruce comes to visit John in Arkham.What happens next will warm your heart.





	Just a Talk

**Author's Note:**

> lol but srsly i wanted to write out what happens after the vigilante epilogue in ep5.  
> Just re-posting this from my tumblr to ao3 so I have it here as well

Arkham Asylum

5.06 PM

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the narrow halls. Fluorescent lights hummed quietly in tune, accompanied by the never ending rain. It was a dull, gray symphony, one perfectly matching the empty walls of the asylum.

One, Bruce felt, that was pouring effortlessly out of his own heart.

“Visitor for John Doe!”- The guard shouted, interrupting their monotonous walk without a warning. Bruce managed to stop mere inches away from the other man, nearly running into him. He adjusted his tie, suddenly realizing he was nowhere near as prepared for what was about to come as he thought.

“Bruce!”

His name resonated in the hollow corridor, sent a freezing chill down Bruce’s spine. And yet, when he leaned over to meet those striking green eyes through the narrow gap of the food slot, he couldn’t contain the small smile forming on his face.

John’s whole expression lit up just then, and he released a quiet giggle.

Yeah, this _was_ funny.

“Alright, Doe, we’re coming in, you hear?”- The guard impatiently banged on the door with his fist, and reached behind to take out a pair of handcuffs and his keychain, -“Hands where I can see ‘em!”

As soon as the door was unlocked, Bruce saw him. Really, _truly_ saw him.

He looked just like he did on that day, a year ago, back when Bruce first found himself in Arkham. A creepy-looking, unsettlingly friendly weirdo that knew things he shouldn’t and had the smell of trouble all around him. A whole year, and yet that much didn’t change.

“Hands out,”- The guard commanded, and John obediently extended his wrists for the handcuffs. Bruce involuntarily winced at the sight, placing a hand on the guard’s shoulder to stop him from walking over.  

“Um- Sir, I-I don’t believe we’ll be needing that,”- He half-whispered to the older man, who raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. Bruce lowered his voice even further, leaning in closer to his ear, -“If you don’t mind, I’d rather us have some privacy, if you know what I mean?”

“Ya wanna be alone in a room with this maniac!?”- The guard looked at him with a bewildered expression on his face, tugging his shoulder away from Bruce’s grasp, -“Sorry, _sir_ , that ain’t protocol.”

Bruce naturally expected this response, already pulling out a stack of cash from his pocket, prepared for this exact occasion. He wasn’t going to take any more chances trying to smooth talk this guy - John was still smiling, but Bruce noticed how his shoulders tensed at the word _‘maniac’._  

“Well, uh, I think I have something here that would help you close your eyes on the protocol,”- He smiled coyly, handing the bribe over to the guard.

The man looked over the cash hesitantly, probably judging the amount - which was more than generous. He finally snatched it from Bruce’s hand, scoffing as he pocketed the money.

“Lock us in, would you?”- Bruce asked, watching the confusion on the guard’s face grow.  

“Listen, I don’t know what the _hell_ you think you’re doing, but I better not find your bloody corpse when I come back,”- The older man threatened as Bruce finally walked into the room, -“Visiting’s over in two hours.”

John beamed at Bruce, looking as though he just witnessed the best con in history, and Bruce smirked in return. _People these days, right?_

 _“And no funny business!”_ \- The guard hissed at them before finally slamming the door. Bruce listened to the sounds of the lock clicking in place and the man’s fading footsteps, then finally turned to face John full on.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”- John giggled, pointing his thumb at the door. Bruce didn’t reply.

He felt his smile drop when he realized he was finally alone with John, the weight of the past few weeks hanging over his head like a storm cloud. As though on cue, thunder rolled over the horizon, and John sat down on the bed, continuing to grin up at him.

“Gotta be honest, Bruce…”- He began, intertwining his fingers and leaning forward, -“After everything that happened, I wasn’t sure you were ever gonna visit.”

Bruce inhaled slowly, looking down at the floor. Everything that happened… It felt as though it was in another life, happening to someone else.

“N-Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy to see you!”- John was quick to correct himself, probably misreading Bruce’s expression, -“Like, extremely happy! But, I have to ask… Why did you come?”

The dreaded question. Bruce knew it was coming, but that didn’t stop him from being caught off guard. He thought that over himself, for such a long time, and didn’t manage to come up with a reasonable answer. So instead, he decided to go with the truth.

“I wanted to see you, John,”- He said, bringing up a chair and sitting opposite the other man. He paused for just a moment, half-expecting an  _“It’s Joker”_ to interrupt him.

It never came.

“Um, I just… How are you doing?”

John smiled wider, but his eyes were glossed over with something hollow, -“Well, I’m back in Arkham, hanging out with the crazies and eating pills for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, so… I guess you could say things could be better-”

“Don’t be like that, John,”- Bruce began, his heart heavier with each word, -“You _know_ this is what is best for you. You’re sick, and you need help.”

He wasn’t sure whether he quite believed that himself, but there wasn’t exactly an alternative. John just wasn’t ready for the outside world - and the outside world wasn’t ready for him. Dr. Leland was a bit too hasty in singing those release papers the first time around, and Bruce wanted to make sure that that wouldn’t happen again.

John sat quietly for a long moment, finally sighing heavily as he looked out the window.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right, Bruce,”- He all but whispered, an unreadable expression crossing his face, -“Maybe I _do_ belong in Arkham.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant either. I-“- Bruce sighed as well, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. How in the world was he going to convey this to him..?

“Look… You created a mess, John. A big, difficult mess. But-“

“Don’t you think I don’t know that!?”- John suddenly snapped, bolting up and turning to face Bruce, -“It’s the only thing that I’ve been hearing for the past week! _“John Doe did this, John Doe did that”_ \- I _know_ what I did-!“

“And I don’t blame you for it,”- The billionaire interrupted, his voice calm and steady, placing a hand on John’s arm. The other man jumped, seemingly just realizing where he was and who he was with, -“Breathe.”

And John obliged. 

Taking a few deep breaths and calming down, he sat back down on the bed, -“Maybe you _should_ be blaming me, Bruce. You said it yourself, I made a mess.”

“No, I… Misspoke. I should’ve said _we_ made a mess.”

John quirked an eyebrow, staring at him with a confused expression. Only then did Bruce realize he still had his hand on his arm. He moved it back hastily, clearing his throat.

“I won’t deny that all those things… All those _bad_ things that happened - you’re the one who caused them. But… _I_ was the one that drove you to that state. I wanted nothing but the best, but I ended up being the worst thing for you, John. And I guess… I guess I wanted to apologize for it.”

And that’s why he was here. Bruce finally was starting to piece it together - the guilt that came after seeing John’s trial, the bitter aftertaste at his sentence, the pain he felt when he saw those bright green eyes, faded under the veil of heavy medication.

“Oh, Bruce-“

“No, let me finish.”

Bruce knew he could’ve avoided it all if only he could see how unstable John was, if he brought him back to Arkham sooner. Instead, he continued using him, their friendship, to get what he needed. John was the last thing on his mind until the very end, and that ended up being his biggest mistake.

“John, I… I really do want to see you get better. I’ve said this before, and I will say it again - I’m not giving up on you,”- He emphasized this by moving over to the bed, sitting down next to the other man who continued to listen in silence, -“I know it’s not too late, and I will be here, supporting you at every turn. And once you’re better - once you’re really, truly better, I will be there too. Waiting for you, on the other side.”

Heavy silence fell between them, as John just stared at the floor, and Bruce studied his features, trying to decipher what was going on in his head. His eyes were fixated, mouth hanging slightly open, his skin even paler in the dim light of Arkham’s lamps.

And suddenly, John doubled over, his shoulder shaking ever so slightly, before he finally erupted in a fit of laughter that took Bruce by surprise. It wasn’t maniacal, wasn’t that crazy sort of cackle that chilled Bruce to the bone when he heard it from the man whose face was covered in blood. It was genuine, heartfelt.

“Y-You really are just as crazy as me, aren’t you?”- John giggled, wiping a tear away from his eye and turning to face Bruce with a wide smile, -“I break your one and only code, and you still think I’m worth fighting for. Hell, they should lock you up right here with me- it’ll be just like old times!”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile at that himself, softly shaking his head, -“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll pass up on that offer.”

“Suit yourself. You’re missing game night on Wednesday.”

Bruce looked John over again, finally feeling the tension in the air dissipate. Only then did he notice the white bandage around his right hand, blending in with his pale skin.

“How’s your hand?”- Bruce asked, unthinkingly taking it into his own. He looked over the bandages, that seemed clean. Good, no need to change them.

John blinked a few times, pursing his lips.

“Oh, this? Completely forgot it even happened. But I’m not going to lie, you roughed me up pretty good, buddy.”

“You think that’s roughing up?”- Bruce smirked up at him, his hands instinctively travelling to his left side, -“You should see what you put me through, John.”

The man furrowed his eyebrows, looking over Bruce quizzically. He suddenly brought up a hand to his face, gently running his thumb over his jaw, and gave a smile, -“Sorry, Bruce, don’t think a few scratches are the same as a punctured hand!”

Bruce scoffed, immediately feeling the need to prove himself. He knew that ‘ _who got it worse_ ’ isn’t exactly a competition, but he’d be damned if he didn’t win this one.

Plus, seeing the full extent of his injuries might serve good in John’s rehabilitation. He needed to take responsibility for his actions.

Before he could think it through any better, Bruce was already undoing his tie and discarding it on the floor, moving on to unbutton his jacket and shirt.

“Woah, he-hey, buddy- The guard said ‘no funny stuff’, remember?”- John giggled, but immediately fell silent as soon as his eyes landed on Bruce’s chest.

It was littered with scars, wounds, and cuts, some new, some fading, and a myriad of bandages and plasters. A particularly large bruise was spread over the right side of his body, same side as the multitude of his broken ribs.

“Woah,”- John mumbled, standing up and moving closer to inspect the full extent of his injuries, -“…Well, guess now we know why they call you ‘Bruce’!”

The billionaire couldn’t help but smirk at that, shaking his head at the bad pun. He opened his shirt further, holding it to allow John the full view. He jumped only ever so slightly when he felt the other man’s fingers trace down his skin. He had half a mind to tell him to stop, that he was being inappropriate. Or let him down with a simple ‘it still hurts’ - John would get the clue.

But…

“What’s this for?”- John whispered, feeling the edges of a huge plaster Bruce had on the left side of his torso. The billionaire inhaled sharply, looking it over himself.

“I fell on a metal rod. After you set the bombs off on the GCPD rooftop.”- He stated, trying to keep his voice as level and blameless as he could, -”Went right through me.”

John still visibly winced at that, snapping his hand back for a second - and only for a second.

“Huh… You weren’t kidding when you said I almost killed you,”- He smiled, somewhat bittersweet, continuing to trace every cut and mark on Bruce’s body. Bruce was beginning to feel a bit more exposed than before, -“Guess we’re both punctured now, huh?”

John raised up his right hand and giggled, and Bruce smiled in return.

“Guess so.”

“…I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you… Not back then, anyway.”

Bruce didn’t say anything, taking a deep breath as he realized how close the two of them were standing. John was now tracing circles at his collarbones, and Bruce didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he continued to awkwardly hold his shirt open for the other man to do as he pleased. A sudden thought that the guard might come back any second crossed his mind, and he shrugged it off, convincing himself that they still had time. It sure was quite a compromising position to be caught in.

“You know, I just don’t think I’m cut out for that vigilante life. It was so much more stressful than I imagined,”- John continued, voice just above a whisper, -“Don’t think I’ll be able to help you out much more on that front, _Batman_.”

Bruce involuntarily shivered at the mention of his alter ego, swallowing down hard. It was somehow much more difficult to breathe now that there was so little space between him and John, his words almost suffocating.

“There will be no need to. I… Think I’m gonna stick with Bruce from now on.”

John stopped in his tracks, realization slowly dawning on him as he raised his wide eyes to meet with Bruce’s.

“Wh- No… No way- You’re _retiring!?_ ”- He exclaimed, taking a few steps backwards, -“ _Are you kidding me!?_ ”

Immediately feeling that much colder, Bruce closed the distance between him and John again, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Trust me, John, it’s for the best-“

“Is this my fault!?”- The other man continued yelling, violently tugging his shoulder away from Bruce’s hand, -“Are you doing this because of me!? Because of what I’ve done!?”

Bruce looked down at the floor, not sure exactly what to answer. _Yes, and no._

_But mostly yes._

“I made my decision, John-“

“How can you just- do this!? To us, to yourself, to Gotham-!”- He slammed his hands on the bedside dresser, breathing heavily as his eyes wandered over to the framed picture. John took it in his hands, and only then did Bruce fully realize who was depicted in it.

“…To _me?_ ”

John slowly turned around, his expression painful as he looked down at the picture of him and Batman, back on the GCPD rooftop. Bruce smiled, feelings of bittersweet nostalgia washing over him. He walked closer to John, gently taking his hands and lowering the photo, so that the man finally looked up from it.

“Look, John… It’s going to be fine. I’m just… Giving Batman a little break. I’m not hanging up the cowl forever, you hear?”- He whispered, making sure John listened to every word. Sure, he was making this up as he went along - but the more he spoke, the more he was starting to believe it himself, -“I think that me, and you, and Gotham - we all need time off. And when the right time comes- _if_ the right time comes-“

“He’ll come back, right?”- John finished for him, taking a deep breath.

“Exactly.”

He still didn’t sound convinced, still had that sad grimace on his face - but at least he finally put down the photo, and was back to tracing circles on Bruce’s chest. Bruce didn’t even know why he felt so relieved.

“Hey, look on the bright side,”- He continued, moving his hands to gently hold John by the forearms, -“Now that I’ve got so much free time, I can visit you more often. Every other day or so.”

That did seem to cheer John up, and the man finally looked Bruce in the eyes, -“You promise?”

Bruce smiled wide as he held up one of his hands, extending out a finger to John,

“Pinky swear.”

That seemed to do it. 

John laughed loudly, as they locked fingers. Bruce didn’t register when, exactly, his hands moved to hold John by the waist, didn’t realize that their bodies were practically touching until just then. He felt his mind suddenly go blank, had no idea where to go from here.

John continued to stare up at him, grinning expectantly, still idly running his fingers along every line and scar on his chest.

Bruce awkwardly cleared his throat, his face all too warm.

“Uh, _ahem_ \- Alfred sends his regards.”

“Really?”- John smiled wider at that, pressing even closer to Bruce - as close as was physically possibly without fully touching, -“Does he miss me!?”

Bruce took a long moment to think it over, noticing John’s smile begin to drop. He cleared his throat again, realizing it was way too dry for comfort.

“Er, yeah, he does!”- He lied, knowing that Alfred will probably forgive him for it, -”He, uh, wishes you a soon recovery and is also eager to see you at the manor!”

“The manor..?”

It was then that it dawned on Bruce that he may have accidentally omitted actually discussing this with John. _Crap._

“I, um… Was kind of thinking you could come live with me, after Arkham. A-At least until you can find your own place. You could even come work for me, at Wayne Enterprises. Uh, if you want to, that is.”

He already made the decision on his own, and was willing to stand by it. Alfred told him there were plenty of other ways to do good in this world - so Bruce decided to start by cleaning up the mess Batman made. And that meant doing everything he could to support John.

John stared back at him, bright green eyes illuminated by the moon that finally came out from behind the storm clouds. Bruce inhaled sharply, momentarily feeling lightheaded.

“You know what, Bruce? I might just have to take you up on that offer,”- The man smiled, throwing his hands behind Bruce’s neck, and the distance between their bodies was officially nonexistent.

Bruce swallowed down, smiling awkwardly. Between telling John to take a step back or moving away himself, he decided to go with a simple, -“That’s great to hear, John. There will be plenty of rooms in the manor for you, choose whichever one you want.”

John turned his face to stare at the floor for a moment, then shifted his eyes back to Bruce, smiling sheepishly.

“And what if I wanted to stay in _your_ room?”

That seemed to knock the wind out of Bruce’s lungs, and he turned away immediately, forgetting entirely how to breathe. John hastily took a few steps back, shaking his head.

“S-Sorry, sorry! Was that too straightforward?”

Bruce felt as though he was doused in cold water, not only from the sudden lack of warmth from John’s body, but also from the complete and undeniable insinuation that the other man’s words carried. The subject that he was so keen on avoiding or sweeping up under a rug was suddenly out in the open, and Bruce was forced to finally confront something that he wasn’t sure he was willing to just yet.

John bit his bottom lip, scratching at the back of his head, the prolonged silence clearly driving him to the edge. He coughed a few times, turning away from Bruce, -“Look, just forget I said anything, okay? I’m sorry I-“

“John, wait-“- Bruce interrupted him, grasping him by the arms and turning him around, grounding him in place as though if he let go the other man might just walk off. As if there was anywhere to go in the tiny cell.

He didn’t know what he was even planning on saying, if he even had anything to say. But he felt that something _needed_ to be said, and so he opened his mouth, and began speaking, hoping that whatever came out would make sense.

“Listen John, I- That time- You- _Dammit_ , wait, let me start over,“- And yet he couldn’t tie a single sentence together, and with every word he spoke John’s expression was looking more and more down. He finally allowed himself to take a deep, shaky breath, calming his nerves, gave himself a moment to think about what he was actually going to say.

He then gave John a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders, still not letting go, still too scared that he would just…

“John, when… Back at Ace Chemicals, when you told me how much you looked up to me… How much I meant to you…”- Bruce whispered, moving closer to the other man without thinking, -“When you told me that… All you ever wanted to be was… Be loved by me… I…”

He took another breath, staring at the floor to avoid watching the expression on John’s face, his heart beating faster, recalling every memory, every word, every second.

“I don’t think that you… I don’t think you ever realized that I really, truly _did_ care for you, John. I know you doubted our friendship, until the very end, but… I _did_ think of you as my friend. And we _did_ have good times together.”

Bruce felt the other man’s shoulders tense up under his grasp. He slowly let go, finally looking up, only to see him staring at the ground just as intensely as Bruce was a moment ago.

“So when you… When you said that you wanted to be loved by me…”- He continued, taking another second to register this moment, recognize what exactly he was saying, and what exactly he was feeling, -“I don’t think you realized… I don’t think that you realized you were _already_ loved by me. And maybe I didn’t realize until it was too late, but… I _did_ love you, John…”

A moment passed between them. An eternity in silence equating down to just one second. Bruce felt as though he was just about to throw his own heart up, his guts twisting painfully with every breath. 

“…But not anymore?”- John whispered, barely audible, yet still too loud in the empty silence of the asylum. Bruce inhaled sharply, continuing to study the expressionless face that he knew masked a waterfall of pain.

He didn’t know what to say to that. 

There was no right answer, no correct option for him to chooe from. He had no idea what was going on in his own head, so he continued to stay silent, until John simply swallowed down, and turned his head to face the wall.

“ _Hah!”-_ A single dry laugh escaped his lips, and John looked almost mad just then, almost scowling- “That’s _alright_ , Bruce. I _understand_ -“

No.

_No, no, no, no, **no-**_

“John-“- Bruce mumbled, lunging forward without thinking. He grabbed a hold of the man’s wrists, turning him around harshly. John stared back at him with a blank expression, eyes dead, even in the glow of moonlight, -“Things are not so simple- I- Look, we’ll work hard together, okay? I promised not to give up on you, didn’t I? You’ll feel better soon, and then you can move in with me, and then we’ll… We’ll figure something out, alright?”

“I’m getting _tired_ of being played around with, Bruce,”- John hissed, voice low, threatening, and Bruce remembered exactly why he was trying to avoid this altogether.

“No, _no-_   _Listen_. I just- I don’t want to hurt you again, John,”- Alfred’s words echoed loudly in his head - using John, creating his own worst villains, putting everyone around him in danger. 

Bruce felt his stomach tighten with the thought that he could be detrimental to John. It made him sick. 

“I told you, John, I _care_ about you. I just- I don’t want to-“

John was already turning around, and Bruce could feel him slipping away from his fingers. 

So, without a second thought, he leaned in, desperately pulling the other man closer to his chest-

His lips meeting a hand pushing up against them.

It took him a moment to register what just happened. Bruce felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach, daring to open his eyes… Only to see John looking out to the door, focusing intently on it.

And in the next second, a loud bang nearly made Bruce jump, followed by a harsh _“Everything okay in there!?”_

John slowly removed his hand from Bruce’s mouth, and the latter immediately yelled back.

“Y-Yeah, we’re fine!”

“You got 30 minutes, Mr. Wayne!”- The guard shouted, his voice followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

Bruce exhaled slowly, all the tension that he felt building up in the air slowly dissipating. He turned to face John, who was giggling softly.

“Now, where were we?”- He beamed, taking Bruce’s hands into his own.

The billionaire couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips at realizing how absurd this situation was. It was as though a boulder was lifted off of his shoulders when he saw his best friend’s smile - and yeah, in the end, maybe John really _was_ his best friend.

“I- All I wanted to say, John-”- Bruce started again, now that he finally managed to recapture the other’s full attention, -“-is that I don’t want to mess things up. I don’t know if this is what you need right now, so I-“

“ _Alllllright_ , enough talking, buddy,”- John suddenly interrupted him, intertwining their fingers together on one hand, using the other to hold Bruce by the back of his neck, slipping it under his shirt. Bruce couldn’t help but shiver, -“I’ve let you go on and on and on about _your_ reasons, now it’s time to hear _me_ out. I had nothing outside of Arkham when I first got out - there wasn’t anything out there for me. Or anyone, for that matter. I managed to find Harley, the Pact, you… We became a _family_. It was _perfect_.”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile with fond memories, his own hand finding its way to John’s waist, landing there unsteadily. No, in the end, it wasn’t all terrible. 

“And then everything just… _Blew up_ ,”- John made an explosion noise, rolling his head from one shoulder to the other, -“And not in a fun way, either. And then I got tossed back in here, like an unwanted dog. You think I gave a _damn_ about rehabilitation!? What was waiting for me out there this time? _Nothing_. Same thing as the last time.”

“And then - you came. You actually came to visit! After everything I pulled, after everyone I _killed_ …”

The billionaire winced at that, instinctively squeezing John closer to himself. It was as though he was trying to protect him from everything that happened, but… Bruce knew he couldn’t protect him from himself.

“And you’re still here, for whatever damn reason. And no matter how hard I try, I just _can’t_ bring myself to hate you!”

John laughed at that, another full, sincere laugh, and Bruce couldn’t help but actually join in, earning himself a confused stare.

“What can I say, John. The feeling’s mutual,”- He chuckled, pressing his forehead against the other’s.

John exhaled softly, continuing to stare into Bruce’s eyes. He brought both of his hands to cup his face, running his thumbs over his chiseled jaw, -“And now suddenly… I have something to look forward to, outside of Arkham. Somewhere to go. _Someone_ that’s waiting.”

“I actually have a reason to get better, Bruce. So now, I think… I think this is not going back to the beginning. This is… This is just a fresh start!”

“What a positive attitude,”- Bruce smirked, leaning in closer, lips hovering just above John’s. He felt the other’s warm breath on his skin, could see the reflection of the moon in his eyes. John shifted, moving a leg in between Bruce’s, their bodies impossibly close together. His heart was racing a thousand miles a minute, resonating across his chest, his head, beating in his eardrums.

He forgave Alfred’s lies, Selina’s betrayals, Tiffany’s murder - and John was just as deserving of a second chance as they were.

“You will be my light outside of Arkham, Bruce,”- John whispered, his lips barely grazing Bruce’s, and the billionaire shook his head.

“No… John, when you’re out, you will no longer need a light.”

And with that, he didn’t hesitate any longer to close the distance between them, softly placing his lips on John’s, inhaling sharply when he felt that sting of electricity in his heart. John’s hands moved up into Bruce’s hair, fingers running through his locks, as Bruce brought him closer by the waist, gently moving his lips against the other man’s.

Another second, and John’s tongue was slipping into Bruce’s mouth, and his leg was rubbing against his crotch, Bruce running his hands under John’s shirt, feeling every inch of his back. He released a content exhale, breaking away from John’s mouth and moving onto his neck, his tongue running down a beating vein, gently biting at the pale skin. John quietly hissed in pain, pulling down his shirt to reveal more skin for Bruce to taste.

After leaving a particularly big hickey on his collar bone, Bruce moved back to John’s mouth, capturing it in another deep kiss.

“What time is it?”- John suddenly asked, pulling away. Bruce was breathing heavily, his underwear and pants feeling uncomfortably tight. It took him a moment to gather his bearings, recognize what John was even saying.

He checked his watch, immediately realizing he only had seven minutes to gather his clothes from the floor and make himself look presentable before the guard showed up.

And even with that, he couldn’t bother feeling anything but overwhelmed. Whatever was happening between him and John was… Drunkening. It made him feel elevated.

“Will you-“

“Yes, of course,”- He replied, picking up his tie from the floor and buttoning up his shirt, without even letting the other man finish the question. He already knew what he was going to ask, anyway.

“What-“

“Same time as today. No, earlier. I don’t have anything else to do anyway.”

“Just don’t come before 3, I have therapy.”

John smiled at him, sitting down on the bed, looking just as out of breath and messed up as Bruce felt. Finally adjusting his tie and putting back on his jacket, Bruce walked over, sitting down besides John. 

“What happened between us, Bruce…”- John began, his tone serious, and the billionaire instinctively tensed up, -”…You think this was ‘funny business’?”

“Ugh. Do you see me laughing?”- Bruce scoffed in response, bringing John’s hand to his lips and planting a soft kiss.

“Yeah, a little, actually.”

“Well then, let’s just keep this to ourselves for now,”- Bruce whispered, tracing his lips down the other man’s jaw, -”…You’re going to behave, right?”

“ _Yes_ , Brucie, I will be a good boy. I will take my medicine and won’t stab anyone unless absolutely necessary,”- John rolled his eyes, and, upon seeing Bruce’s expression, added, -“ _I promise_.”

He brought their foreheads together, and they stayed like that for another minute, as he adjusted Bruce’s hair and straightened his collar.

“Time’s up, Mr. Wayne!”- The guard came banging at the door not a second late, and Bruce reluctantly stood up, brushing off his jacket. 

Feeling something in his pocket, he remembered the one thing he still needed to do.  

“Here,”- He hastily took what he had prepared, giving it to John, -“Nearly forgot about it.”

John looked over the slightly crumpled “Get Well” card, and in the next moment erupted with laughter. Bruce knew he’d like it, but he was still relieved at that response.

“I see you’re still in one piece,”- The guard snarled, giving the still giggling John a distasteful look. Bruce stood in front of him, feeling that weird need to protect him kick in again, -“Well, out you go.”

He held the door wide open for Bruce to leave, and John walked with him across the room. He knew he would be back tomorrow, but…  

“Whoops, dropped my pen,”- Bruce discretely flung it to the other side of the corridor, earning a suspicious look from the guard. He smiled at him inncoently, fluttering his eyelashes, -“Do you mind?”

The older man scoffed incredulously, rolling his eyes as he walked over to pick it up, murmuring something about entitled rich people.

Bruce didn’t hesitate to plant one last quick kiss on John’s lips, which the latter way too happily accepted.

“Here you go, _sir_ ,”- The guard returned with his pen, his tone dripping with sarcasm, -“Now get the _hell_ out of here.”

“Bye, John,”- Bruce smiled, receiving a happy wave in return.

“See you tomorrow, Bruce.”

Finally locking the door, the guard returned to walking by Bruce’s side, escorting him to the exit.

“Now tell me, Mr…?”- Bruce began, casually adjusting his tie.

“Flint,”- The older man mumbled in response, clearly less than pleased to be communicating.

“Mr. Flint. Do you work here every day at this hour?”

“‘Cept weekends.”

“Interesting. And do you, um… Think we could continue with our arrangement?”

“What, you gonna pay me to let you see that freak?”

Bruce restrained himself from lashing out, and resorted to a patient smile, -“If that’s okay with you?”

“Hell, as long as neither of you’s killed, fine by me.”

They continued on walking in silence for a few moments, their footsteps echoing across the empty asylum halls. After passing by a few doctors, Flint suddenly spoke up, shaking his head.

“Now, how the _hell_ did someone like that guy make friends with someone like you!?”

Bruce couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips.

“I guess I just got lucky.”

The older man actually stopped, turned around to look at Bruce in bewilderment, before opening the front door of the asylum.

“You’re a weird guy, Wayne. Still, gotta ask though. What in the world were you doing there for two hours?”

Thinking back to everything that happened tonight, everything that happened over the last couple of months… He had no idea where any of this was headed, or even if it was headed anywhere at all. But for now… For now, this was enough

Walking past the man, Bruce simply shrugged.

“We just talked.”


End file.
